


Knowing

by red_savage



Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: !kink:messy, Cliche: Telepathy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-07
Updated: 2009-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_savage/pseuds/red_savage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark doesn't play fair.  Steve Rogers is a quick study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing

Title: Knowing  
Author:red_savage   
Fandom: Ultimates - 1610  
Cliche: Telepathy  
Character/Pairing: Tony Stark / Steve Rogers  
Rating/Warning: NSFW, R / Kink:messy, slash  
Beta: jazzypom   
Word Count: 2,214  
Summary: Tony Stark doesn't play fair. Steve Rogers is a quick study.

Nanites. Everyone knew Tony Stark used them as an Ultimate when he operated the Iron Man. Some knew the nanites had saved him from Natasha's betrayal. Few knew he used them in day to day life as bio-armor just to make it through the day. Nobody, with the possible exception of Nick Fury, suspected that Tony used nanites on his associates and team mates to keep tabs on them. Tony knew he was little better than a rotten fink. He had to take his amusements where he could and while he could. He didn't think about his illness, instead concentrating on making the most of the precious grains of sand as they dropped out of the hour glass.

Thor's abilities to teleport and wield lightening meant that the nanites rarely survive for very long on him. Hank and Jan's size changing abilities also played a bit of havoc with the little buggers and over time the nanites would short-out. When Banner would transform in the Hulk, the gamma bursts through his cell structures was positively lethal to them. Most of the Ultimates' secrets were safe from Tony Stark's nanites. Tony wasn't put off; there were other tools for those jobs.

Steve Rogers was a straight forward individual either in or out of the spotlight. One didn't have to be a Nick Fury to know that Steve was in church every Sunday from 9:30 to 11:00 in the morning; that Steve had Sunday dinner with Gail and Bucky; or that Steve was in the neighborhood gym every day at two in the afternoon. No special powers were needed to know the obvious things about Steve. He was a man out of his time. A kind and gentle soul might feel sympathy or pity for poor Steve Rogers, but he wasn't that kind of man to accept such charity. He liked big band and swing. Steve believed in old fashioned courting. He was registered to vote. He read the newspaper. He took his job on the Ultimates very seriously. He fought for the American Dream. He was drop-dead gorgeous. Steve kept his secrets hidden under layers of patriotism, apple pie and stubborn fortitude.

One of the serious disadvantages of the nanites is that they didn't transmit information over a long range. They could store information for a time and then download once they came into proximity with Tony. In twenty minutes, Tony had found out everything he needed to know from Natasha concerning The Liberators. Guests staying over night sometimes brought Tony voyeuristic opportunities. Over the space of a dinner party, Tony Stark could net random strangers business' plans. Over the space of several years of casual contact, Tony Stark could know your inner demons or your hidden desires.

After the Ultimates went freelance, his break up with Jan, the drastic turn of events with Gail and Bucky, Steve had sought refuge. The room was as gesture of good-will on Tony's part and Steve had grudgingly accepted. It would only be for a little while till Steve could sort himself out. It was upstairs and to the left to Tony's rooms. It was a place to shower and rest after missions. It had a turn table for records. It was not austere enough for Steve's depression era sensibilities. It used to belong to Jarvis.

That first day walking downstairs to the breakfast area a few minutes till seven, Steve wore a plain grey t-shirt and blue nylon running shorts. Tony sat already at the table fully dressed reading the paper. Tony looks up from the paper, "Top of the morning to you."

Steve pours himself a coffee from the buffet and sits down, "Morning, Tony."

"Sleep well?"

"Well enough when I wasn't nearly sliding out of bed. Those sheets –"

"I know. You look at them wrong and you start sliding. I'll have them changed. Cotton okay?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Well plain sheets would be fine. I don't really know fabric."

"Fair enough. You need anything else and you tell them." Tony waves toward the kitchen. "They're here to make our lives run smoother."

In the first months of Steve's stay, various additional pantry items were stocked. Suddenly Yoo-Hoo chocolate drinks, Milk Duds, Nehi, Cream of Wheat and Sanka coffee became offered on a regular basis out of Tony's kitchen. At six weeks, Tony introduced Steve to the home media system in the mansion, which included recordings of old radio shows as well as vintage television footage. Two weeks in Tony stops wandering around only in his boxers and robe. At eleven weeks, Tony stops wearing Asian influenced robes around the house, in favor of English styled smoking jackets. At fourteen weeks, smoking jackets are abandoned for outdoor active wear. At twenty weeks, open necked polo shirts, khaki pants and loafers become the lounging fashion for Tony. Everyday there are fresh cut flowers in Steve's room. It's been that way since day one.

Caution is the watch word in the place where one of this century's most infamous pornos was filmed. Tony still denies to this day that he had anything to do with the filming and distribution of the expertly shot home movie featuring himself and Natasha. All the Ultimates have their favorite part of the film that they like to rib Tony about. Steve's favorite part of the flick is at the beginning where Natasha slowly kisses Tony's forehead, eye lashes, cheek bones while she tantalizingly avoids his mouth. He's lost track of the number of time he's watched it. He stopped counting after the first hundred. Steve would like to be kissed like that. When the off topic of the film surfaces, Steve still gives a disapproving glare in the general direction of Tony on pure principle.

Steve knew the routine of Tony, Tony's staff, and some of the surrounding area residents. He's covertly checked his room as well as several secluded areas in the mansion for hidden cameras. The food he could over look as Tony's idea of hospitality and some basic internet research. The music, too, was for Steve's benefit. Tony didn't spare expenses when it came to the Ultimates or one of his guests, Steve was both. One day finding cases of your favorite shave cream tucked quietly away in your bathroom cabinet, one might write off as innocent coincidence. Most would think nothing of it.

In Steve's day the stuff came in a tube, now the markings on the can are just as plain. The latest revision of the artwork was the addition of text touting a rust proof bottom. The plastic cap covering the button and nozzle housing pops off easily. This covering is often discarded immediately with the first use of can, Steve always replaces the cap before putting it up. The foam is white, thick, and smells of menthol. It clings and covers skin as easily as it rinses.

Steve uses it for more than shaving. Sometimes two or three cans in a session. It's a private thing done in the bathroom's bath tub. He even draws the shower curtain closed, because it's a reserved experience. Nobody, not even Fury, could guess. Steve is always careful. He doesn't do it often. It goes against upbringing as being decadent and wasteful. Steve likes to cover himself head to toe with it, and then get off. The phrase 'guilty pleasure' hardly seems appropriate.

He's convinced Tony is spying upon him somehow. The initial shock and horror of finding copious amounts of temptation has passed. Steve has considered his options and has once again decided to confront the problem head on. Tony has been out late as usual. As soon as he steps inside the door he pauses. The servant has taken his glasses, hat, coat and bidden him a good night. Tony absently nods as he receives the frantic signals of the other nanites in the mansion.

Steve's thoughts are unmistakable. _ He had better be home soon -- goldbricker. I'll ask him about it. He'll lie – say he doesn't know in that fake accent of his. Probably ask if want to 'go a round of rub-a-dub-dub two men in a tub'. How could he know? In my day, people didn't behave like this. People had manners …_

Walking to the bar, Tony considers this turning point of events. There are so many ways where this can go off the rails to become unsalvageable. Risk verses reward is always a consideration. He's engineered corporate takeovers in less than three months. This plan has taken years. Tonight is another step in that long process.

Steve is waiting for Tony at the top of the landing. Steve is perched on the top step. Telepathy, nanites, a clue; none of that was needed to tell that Steve was two heart-beats away from becoming unhinged. Tony stops a couple steps away. Maybe blunt truth would be the best tact, "Steve. I want you to know, that I understand. I've over-stepped myself and I didn't mean to cause you such distress."

_Has Tony Stark been taken over by aliens or replaced by robots? _ That is the first thought which crosses Steve's mind. He'd expected a 'Hello, old bean.' or 'What you doing there my dear man?' or 'Why the long face?' Steve is thankful that he's currently sitting down and the astonishment passes. Steve says, "You don't know. Anything. How could you understand? Who the devil do you think you are?"

"Tony Stark, obviously." He holds up a hand, "I know you'd like nothing better at the moment than to beat the living snot out me."

"I'd be happy to –"

"And you like to eat oatmeal dry out of the box."

"What?"

"You like dry oatmeal and, and, Ferris wheels." Before Tony can finish naming his list of ten random things Steve likes, he's being hauled up the last two steps by his tie and roughly shoved against the wall.

Steve releases his grip on the tie and begins jabbing his finger into Tony's sternum. "Stark, I don't know what you did, but it can stop right now."

Tony brushes the accusatory finger away, "It's too late for that, Steve-O. I already know."

"Well I know that you know."

"See then, everything is top rate, old boy." Tony places a playful kiss on the tip of Steve's nose.

Steve takes a half step back to get out of immediate kissing range. Sweet talk and woo are two of Tony Stark's weapons, which Steve is wary of, "Mind telling me how you know?"

With a wink and a smile, Tony says, "I could be persuaded to talk about this over a bottle of bubbly followed by a technical demonstration."

"Good Lord, no. How could you possibly want –?"

"I do want. Really, Steve, I don't see how I could be any clearer or more sober about it."

"The thing after New Year's was a fluke, Tony. Thor's Micky Finn was making us dizzy."

"So for once in your life you weren't a complete stick in the mud at a party, Steve. And the only thing we agreed upon was that we'd revisit it later. It's been six months. All I want to know is can we talk about this sometime before Christmas, because Thor said he'd be bringing more of that high-octane mead next time."

"Now is not good."

"Look, I was just trying to broach the issue without you getting all defensive and upset. What's a couple of cans of shaving cream between friends, eh?"

"A note would have worked." Steve considers the carpet, "I don't like that you know."

"I'm not judging."

"But you seem to have an opinion –"

Tony is not put off, "Naturally! Everybody does it."

"Not like that."

"But –" Steve's fist to Tony's face quickly ends the argument and Steve lets Tony slump down the wall to the floor.

The bio-armor absorbs Steve's punch, but Tony has gone down like a possum out of habit. He hears Steve come back up the stairs and enter his bathroom. Tony Stark has a bathroom the size of a small bungalow. It takes little effort from Steve to throw the cans of shaving cream into the hard granite floor such that they burst with a deafening sound which resonates beyond the bedroom and out into the hallway. Tony tries in vain to keep the grin off his face as the little nanites buzz with the immediate thoughts of Steve Rogers.

_Stupid grease ball trying to get under my cowl again! Well Pally you want a party, I'll throw you a damn party – rot gut sob! Bat'n your peepers ain't get'n you out of dis. You play catcher and I'll take it all the way dis time so's you won't be walk'n straight when I'm done with ya._

Tony positions himself casually on the floor as Steve walks into the hallway. "Does that mean we're having a party tonight?"

"Of course –" Steve gives Tony a hand up, escorts him into the bathroom and spins him around. There is shaving cream on the ceiling, walls, fixtures and mirrors. "Enjoy your party for one, Tony." And Steve shuts the door in Tony's face.

The words are crisp and articulate through the door, "For a man of action, old boy; you don't have a lot of follow through."

Steve would yell back, but he knows that Tony knows.

 

Fin.


End file.
